Yankees: An ode to Derek Sanderson Jeter, number 2

Andy Marlin-USA TODAY Sports
Andy Marlin-USA TODAY Sports

The Yankees greatest shortstop ever is two hours away from being honored at Yankee Stadium where he provided thrill after thrill. And until this moment, I have to tell you that the marketing geniuses almost ruined it for me. Almost, but not quite. Hence, my ode to Number 2.

The Yankees greatest shortstop, Derek Jeter, got off to a rough start as a professional ballplayer. And I heard a story on MLB-XM radio this morning while making a grocery run in which the manager of the Charleston, South Carolina team called the General Manager of the Yankees at the time, Gene Michael, asking why in the hell did you draft this guy. He can’t play shortstop!

While probably a true story at the time, the rest, as they say, is history and Jeter more than recovered from his lapses in the field. And while I don’t remember as one of the greatest fielding shortstops who ever lived, I do recall his patented jump throw from deep in the hole with a perfect strike to first.

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And I do remember his home run that claimed him with the title “Mr. November” just after the clock struck twelve on that night when the Yankees came back to beat the Arizona Diamondbacks in a World Series that Joe Torre still wants to know how the Yankees lost.

And I do remember the final game played at the “Old Yankee Stadium” when I watched Jeter from the third deck as he led his team around the outfield waving his hat in acknowledgment of all Yankees fans.

And how he took the microphone after the game, speaking to the crowd and all of Yankeeland. And how he promised that the excellence would move across the street. And sure enough, it did as the Yankees captured their 27th and his fifth World Championship in 2009.

And if someone were to ask you, give me one word to describe Derek Jerek, would you not be inclined to say, winner!

Derek Jeter was never a complicated person. He showed up at the ballpark, day or night, ready to play. He was a no-nonsense guy and even, at times, boring. He took on the New York media with an “I’ll get you before you get me” approach and the media ate it up.

They knew they were getting bamboozled by Jeter’s non-speak, but they didn’t care. And much like Mickey Mantle, he earned (I didn’t say he was given) a lifetime pass.

He played the streets of New York City and reaped the “benefits” of his stardom, but he never flaunted it. And therein lies the majesty of the man from Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Yes, I had a love affair with Derek Jeter. And I always will. He touched me and a torrent of Yankees fans in a way that is magical and permanent.

And like you perhaps, I sat there in my armchair on September 24 in 2014 just knowing that he would provide the climax to his career with a base hit in his final at-bat as a Yankee. And that suddenly, the clock would be turned back twenty years when he realized he had just driven in the run resulting in a Yankees win.

He wasn’t 40 at that moment. He was that young kid with that wide-eyed amazement that glowed and reminded of the night when he became Mr. November.

But nothing about Derek Jeter would be complete with acknowledging his parents, Dorothy and Charles, who took it upon themselves to raise a son who, come to find out, asked the Yankees specifically for his “night” to be held on Mother’s Day.

It just doesn’t get better than this.

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